The Perfect Birthday
by tinknevertalks
Summary: Helen has a perfect birthday in mind, but this wasn't really it.


So, by the time I finish writing the notes and posting this piece, it'll be the day after Helen Magnus' birthday. It was a really sunny day here today and it just felt fitting for her to have a birthday fic. Even though she isn't a real person... *Shrugs* I mean really, who needs an excuse to write Nikola and Helen drinking wine and kissing?

* * *

Helen was, only ever so slightly, worried. Nikola was absent. This in and of itself wasn't a bad thing – goodness knows he got itchy feet every few years – but even when he went off on a jolly he was always back by August first.

It was now August sixteenth, and the only communication she'd had was two sets of numbers from Declan. Helen had taken a while to understand the relevance of said numbers; she knew the first set were GPS co-ordinates, but why Nikola wanted her to go to the Welsh coast was anyone's guess.

And it wasn't as if she was precious about it, but there was something nice about not working much on your birthday, which she was now doing – that blasted second set of numbers. Getting to this little town had taken some doing - London was too populated, and she couldn't fly to Cardiff - but she chartered a little plane to land just south of where Nikola had sent her. Spending six years underground had helped people forget her, as had the new alias Declan's Henry (a woman he referred to as Lin) had set up for her.

Helen wasn't sure if this Lin had a sense of humour a mile wide, or wanted to bite her thumb at the world, but Elen Luyddog had landed to a raised eyebrow and a whispered comment of, 'Are we getting better roads soon?' The car waiting for her was nice though, if not her usual style ( _But maybe that's a good thing, stay under the radar and all_ ), and it was a beautiful sunny day.

Actually, it was the perfect day for driving. The sun was out, the road was clear, the radio was tuned to Radio 4. The only thing missing was birthday cake. And Nikola. And not working. Helen sighed. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her. She loved her work, enjoyed the freedom Hollow Earth allowed her and her residents, and she even enjoyed a wild goose chase every now and then.

So why didn't she want this today?

A mobile phone rang. This shocked her because she was used to radio communications and the Sanctuary's version of Skype, so the tinny _ring-ring_ sounded out of place. Pulling into a lay-by that over looked the sea, she fished the phone out of her carry all. Before she had the chance to greet the caller, an automated voice said, "Have you claimed your PPI...?" Shaking her head, Helen finished the call and threw the phone back into her bag. She hadn't missed that at all.

The drive from the tiny airport to her co-ordinates took less than half an hour, the coast to her left as she drove, all the windows down. She thanked the heavens she'd remembered her sunglasses, as the visor was a chocolate frying pan in terms of use. Breathing in, Helen smiled at the greenery as she flew down the road. A wonderful sense of serenity had enveloped her, the hypnotism of the white lines helping her untangle her knotted birthday thoughts.

She knew why she was so aggrieved. She actually wanted a relaxing day to herself.

At least she had parts of today to herself. Flying the aeroplane had been fun, and driving into town had helped calm her. Finding a parking space, on a Sunday, had been a nightmare, but she persevered. Hat on, shades in place, she walked down the street as if she owned it.

She found him within minutes of stepping out of the car. Even in the blazing sunshine he wore a shirt and waistcoat. Helen couldn't help her smile, or the slightly elevated heart rate. "So this is where you've been hiding."

Nikola smiled, "Not hiding, Helen. I told you where to find me."

"No," she replied, sitting across from him as he sipped a glass of wine, "you only gave Declan the co-ordinates and my birthday." She arched an eyebrow. "So I'm here, even though I could be home..."

"Lounging by your waterfall, drinking Château Lafite... Although lounging by a waterfall should really be done with a decent white wine." As he said this, he poured a glass for her, the last drops of the bottle into his.

"So why am I in the back of beyond, Niko?" she asked quickly, not wanting to imagine her planned perfect day as she leant across the table.

"You haven't called me that in a while," he replied softly, reaching across to touch her cheek.

"You haven't been haunting my cellar in a while," she responded in turn, the bite gone from her tone. She kissed the tips of his fingers, glad of the anonymity in the busy coastal town, before sipping her wine.

He shrugged, smiling at the touch of her lips on his digits. "I wanted a bit of fresh air."

"So you come to Wales?" she asked aghast.

"Ah, but did you expect it of me?"

Helen stopped short, her eyes wide. "Well, no, not really." He preened, and she shook her head. "So... Now that you have me here...?"

"We are going to walk along the beach." He said this as if it was the most normal thing to do, as if they did it all the time. "We'll buy ice-cream over there," he pointed off to the distance and Helen could see a vague queue like mass, "and eat it as we walk along the harbour." He finished his wine, grimacing at the temperature. "Then we're going to find a decent bottle of wine, somewhere secluded, and..." His eyes flicked down and up, "maybe finish celebrating your birthday on a high note."

Helen licked her lips, her eyes bright. "Well, it seems you do have plans for me..."

"Always," he replied, self assuredly.

"Except you forgot something." Nikola blinked, his eyebrows furrowed. Helen smiled, finished her glass, and stood up. "The perfect seaside birthday? The one I told you about during the war? It starts with fish and chips." She held out her hand. "Come on, I see the perfect place."

Nikola groaned, grasping her hand as he stood. "Really Helen? A pun? After I planned this wonderful day for you?"

She smiled as he put on his own sunglasses. " **I** planned it, back in 1941." Shrugging, she continued, "And really, what can I say? Father was the same with puns. You could almost say I'm a chip off the old block."

Helen couldn't tell if the kiss - both his hands on her face, her body flush against his, just how they liked it - was to staunch her words or finally say hello, but either way, her birthday was certainly getting better.


End file.
